The Pilgrim Soul In You
by scarlotti
Summary: She remembers them, as Sarah. She remembers "remembering" them, as Audrey. CHAPTER 2 IS UP! Nathan/Audrey, Sarah, Duke, Jordan. REVIEWS ARE LOVE ;). Tumblr prompt for officerparker.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: The Pilgrim Soul In You**

**Prompt: **

**Pairing/Characters: **Nathan Wuornos/Audrey Parker, Duke Crocker, Jordan Mckee, Nathan Wuornos/Sarah Vernon

**Rating: T (to be very, very safe)**

**Sneak Peak: ** Sarah isn't Audrey, but she's not _not_ Audrey either, and that has his head pounding in a way that he didn't know it still could.

**….**

_How many loved your moments of glad grace,  
And loved your beauty with love false or true,  
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,  
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;_

_**~ William Butler Yeats ~**_

**….**

_1955 _

_Haven, Maine_

It takes four days - four days of more conversations than he can count and Duke's non-stop complaints.

Sarah's been in Haven a little over three and a half months and in four days they've discovered that her nursing savvy is legend, she's made more enemies than she warrants, and nearly every unattached man in Haven has asked her to dinner.

All he can think is that she's so much the same.

**….**

_2010_

_Haven, Maine_

"_Officer Parker?" Stan's knuckles rap twice on the door as he ducks his head into Nathan's office, crossing directly into her line of sight. She blinks several times, in an attempt to focus on something other than what's happening 55 years ago, and rubs distractedly at her ear._

"_Stan?" Judging from Stan's expression, she needs to work on that particular skill._

"_Chief said to give you the information on Martin Bowles?"_

_ Bowles – she's scrambling to match the name to a face, a police report, anything. _

_It takes her less time than she expected. She's up and around the desk in seconds._

"_Is that it?" she shouldn't be so short. Stan's become a friend, but today she doesn't have the energy (or apparently the attention span) to process anything that isn't necessary._

"_Yep, here you go Chief…uh…Audrey." Stan passes her a sheet of paper, blushes slightly at the verbal slip, and ducks back out of the room. Nathan's office. The office she's been manning, distractedly, for the last..._

_She glances at the clock again; two and a half hours can't be right. _

_She wonders, not for the first time, what she was thinking when she sent Nathan after Duke. _

_Except, she knows what she was thinking._

_She was thinking that Duke needed help. She _wasn't _thinking about what that help would entail. And now they're both in 1955, and she's left to wait. _

_Wait and hope. _

_Two and a half hours and she's already starting to feel the anxiety close around her throat. _

_But she has something now; p__rays that this is the _something_ she needs._

_She pulls Nathan's cell out of her pocket and makes the call as she slips out the Department Doors._

"_Jordan? We've got it. I'll meet you in ten."_

**…..**

_1955_

_Haven, Maine_

She's so much the same, but there are differences; Audrey favors coffee, Sarah takes her Earl Grey with two sugars. Nathan's only seen Audrey in a dress once, hasn't seen Sarah in anything but.

Yet it's Audrey's intuition, Audrey's wry humor, and Audrey's spirit staring back at him from under red hair and a nurse's cap.

But Sarah's never pulled a gun on him. Sarah's never thrown a Christmas party mid-year.

Sarah isn't Audrey, but she's not _not_ Audrey either, and that has his head pounding in a way that he didn't know it still could.

Four days.

And then he snags the back of his hand on a rosebush and leaves an intermittent trail of blood up her porch railing. Duke quips something about his cat-like reflexes, Sarah lets out a small "Oh", catches it up between both of hers.

Nathan freezes; he's even less prepared for this touch than Audrey's.

Sarah doesn't. She hits the deck hard and fast.

**…..**

2010

Haven, Maine

'_Bowles Boutique' boasts a sign touting more than 100 years' experience in the Haven funeral floral business. She's banking on its accuracy. Tiny bells mark their entrance, but the man at the counter continues his careful arrangement without as much as a word of acknowledgement._

"_Mr. Bowles? I'm Officer Parker, Haven PD, and this is Jordan McKee. We were wondering if we could have a few moments of your time?" _

_He's tall, thin, balding slightly on top, and finally he turns to face them. He turns and she's stopped closer than she thought, because the long-stemmed roses in his fist catch her hand as she holds out her badge._

'_Hybrid Tea Rose.'_

_It's her last thought._

_Her vision goes black immediately after._

_**…..**_

_1955_

_Haven, Maine_

Duke reacts first, making a move toward Sarah and stopping suddenly, kneeling quietly at her side. Nathan recovers in what seems more like minutes than milliseconds. His mind is parading phrases like head trauma and spinal damage and trying to calculate the odds of either or both - numbers and facts instead of emotion, because he can't process this.

He feels the need to touch her, so he settles his hand neutrally against her stomach. The movement of her breath physically lifting his hand, then arm, gently up and down is reassuring.

"It's ok…I mean…I think…I think I know what this is. Audrey's been having these…these blackouts. The Doc says they're like memory leaks. She should…she'll come to in a minute." Duke's voice sounds anxious and only half-reassuring; his hands are alternating between his hair and small motions of emphasis over Sarah's prone form. Nathan's running through memories of Audrey.

How the hell did he miss blackouts?

What else did he miss?

Sarah's eyes flutter once, twice.

"Nathan," Duke's voice should hold more relief, but all he hears is alarm. So he drags his gaze from Sarah. Duke's eyes are firmly fixed on where Nathan's hand rests below her rib cage.

_How?_

_And his head is pounding._

"Nathan?"

The pull is so strong that he can almost hear his neck crack audibly. The _way_ she says it…

There's a soft smile playing at her lips, a half quirk that's so very _Audrey_ that he can't breathe. Now her eyes drop to his hand, and back up to take in his open mouth and close-set brows. Her look turns weighty.

"You're…," gravelly and deep, and he's not sure how to finish it.

So it hangs in the air for a moment.

"Pregnant." Duke finishes for him.

The evidence is there; it's hardly visible – _wouldn't_ have been visible at all if his hand hadn't fallen along the gentle swell. She can't be more than four months, maybe less.

_Four months._

"You don't know?" Now it's Audrey's confusion dressed in Sarah's clothes, and Nathan's having a hard time separating the two.

_Doesn't know if there are two._

_His head is pounding._

He rocks back on his heels to stand, absently reaching out for her hand.

_Just regained consciousness._

He should be telling her to rest, take it slow.

_Audrey's voice from Sarah's mouth._

And he can't wrap his mind around any of it, so he just reaches for her hand. She takes it on reflex. His nerves spring to life. Duke moves back as well, making room, and the three reclaim the spaces that they held moments ago.

"You don't know." It's a statement this time. She looks to Duke for confirmation, back at Nathan and down.

Down to where his left hand wraps around hers.

"Your ring…"

He can see her brain reeling and processing, as Sara/Audrey stares at his bare hand.

"Nathan, where's….?"

Her hands rotate the grasp, eyes for

_Sarah/Audrey, and he can't see the edges anymore; they're blurring together._

_And his head is pounding._

Then those eyes snap up and she reaches up to move his collar aside.

Her fingers wrap around the chain around his neck, sending a line of sensation down his clavicle, and pulling it free.

_Three stones in a golden band._

_And his head is pounding._

* * *

**A/N**: This fic is causing me middle-of-the-night brainstorm sessions and can't wait to flesh it all out. I WILL be explaining the apparent irregularity between Sarah's pregnancy and James Cogan's birth date, for those wondering.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: The Pilgrim Soul In You, Part II**

**Pairing/Characters: **Nathan Wuornos/Audrey Parker, Duke Crocker, Jordan Mckee, Nathan Wuornos/Sarah Vernon

**Rating: T (to be very, very safe)**

**Sneak Peak: ** She remembers them, as Sarah. She remembers "remembering" them, as Audrey.

**A/N: **I began this before Sarah aired, so (of course) this is AU from Magic Hour II. Stick with me all ;), I'll update more regularly. HUGE "THANK YOU!" to all of my reviewers. Reviews make my day. Let me know what needs improved and any thoughts you have on directionality. No promises, but I'll do what I can. Un-beta'd because I'm anxious to update after so long (though the first part was awesomely beta'd by enigma731 (check out her fic too! ;)).

* * *

…

_How many loved your moments of glad grace,  
And loved your beauty with love false or true,  
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,  
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;_

_**~ William Butler Yeats ~**_

…

_2010  
Haven, Maine_

"Audrey." That voice, filtering through the blackness. She thinks she knows it.

Doesn't she know it?

The name….it's her name.

_She's Audrey._

_Was Audrey._

_Is Audrey._

She smells roses.

It all runs together for a long moment and then she opens her eyes.

_Jordan._

"Audrey?" her voice holds more concern than Audrey would have expected and she wonders, not for the first time, what Nathan has told Jordan about her.

_Nathan is stuck in 1955. With Duke._

_She remembers them, as Sarah. She remembers "remembering" them, as Audrey._

She remembers being Sarah.

"You're bleeding." Jordan grabs a rag and begins dabbing at her nose.

No concussion. Audrey is half reclined and Jordan must have broken her fall because she's laying half-sprawled across her bent knee.

Jordan has her phone out as Audrey stands up.

The man she assumes is Martin Bowles has barely moved from his previous spot. From the look on his face, it has less to do with shock than general indifference.

Jordan is arguing heatedly with someone on her cell.

"Martin Bowles?"

"George." He says it gruffly and seems more concerned with inspecting the roses that she inadvertently collided with than an unconscious woman on the floor.

Jordan joins her again and she watches the man flinch, shying away. She sees Jordan's immediate reaction to the flinch. Instead of the smug satisfaction that she expected, it's something entirely different.

Pain.

She's been so wrapped up in the Hunter and finding James Cogan that she's missed it entirely. Nathan didn't.

"George" sneers and she's still watching, the half-second later, when Jordan begins playing with the fingers of her gloves.

It's a defense mechanism, Audrey realizes. What must it be like, to deal with fear and revulsion on a constant basis, to never be able to let anyone close?

And she understands why Nathan goes out of his way to touch her - why he's so protective of her – he's telling her that she matters. He's touching her because he _can_ and she's gone so long without. He's pulling her out of her isolation.

He's telling her that she's not just her Trouble and letting her know that her worth isn't only wrapped up in the pain she inflicts.

Nathan's trying to save Jordan.

The younger Bowles is now eyeing both of them with open contempt.

"George." Audrey restates firmly. Patience is escaping her. Entirely. And her next statement has nothing of the intended questioning tone. "Your Martin's son."

"Old Man's in the back." His eyes move back to Jordan's hands, warily, and now she catches Jordan's smirk, but again, Audrey realizes she'sdoing it for effect_._

_She remembers being Sarah._

She has to talk to Martin.

They weave around the planters and find Martin standing at the rear of the shop, she raises her hand in warning, but sees that Jordan has already pulled up short, out of the older man's eye line. It's not the first time that she's suspected that Jordan has more than a little idea about what's going on. Audrey pushes down her frustration at the Guard's _tactics_._

But right now, she has two friends stuck in the 1950's with a former version…with what she _thought_ was a former version of herself.

Martin is humming under his breath as his fingers skate across green, leafy stalks with clusters of small yellow flowers bunched at the top – _primrose_ her mind says.

. . . .

_1955_  
_Haven, Maine_

"_They say that plants respond to your voice," she says._

"_Might just be the sunlight."_

_Nathan looks slightly surprised when the words slip out of his mouth. _

_She looks left and _Nathan _is staring back. He looks flustered somehow, shy and befuddled, nervously clutching the small bouquet of wildflowers; she likes it. She tips her chin towards him and watches the corny grin pull at his lips in response to her slow smile. _

_Two day._

_She's only known him two days._

"_That may be," she steps forward slowly and lets her fingers trace along the lines of his hands as she retrieves them from him. There's a constant desire there, to touch him; she can't seem to shake it._

_If she's learned one thing, it's that her instincts never steer her wrong._

"_Mrs. Bowles does love her flowers."_

_His hands are warm, work-worn, and fit naturally against hers. _

_Duke Crocker's exaggerated throat clearing breaks the moment. But, then, it was meant to._

"_Well, let's hope that those are some fan-friggen-tastic flowers, because I could use a night of sleep on a quality mattress. I mean, don't get me wrong, the 50's have their charms, but they pale in comparison to 8 hours on memory foam."_

_This Crocker character is growing on her too, and she has to shoot him a smile as well. _

_If all goes to plan, she'll be saying goodbye to both of them in a matter of days._

"_Be that as it may, the Bowles are a _particular_ kind of family," she muses. _

_Particular indeed._

_..._

_2010_  
_Haven, Maine_

"Mr. Bowles? I'm Officer Parker; I was hoping to ask you a few questions." He's small, and what little hair remains is stark white.

"Confound it girl! You're standing in the light!"

She's not sure what exactly she expected, but she's so caught off guard that she nearly laughs. Martin Bowles spins to face her, surprisingly spry, despite his apparent age.

"Oh. It's you." His voice is still gruff, but the agitation is gone, "Wondered when you'd be showin'. That parner a' yours and his friend were by hours ago."

"You've seen Nathan and Duke." She was expecting this, but the relief is still nearly overwhelming.

"So you don't know yet, eh?" Brown eyes are peering at her from behind weathered bi-focals.

"I mean, ya said ya wouldn't know, but still…I thought…" he trails off and scratches absently behind one ear.

"Ya look the same though. Well, 'cept the hair, mostly."

Questions are forming faster than she can process them.

She voices the most intrusive.

"You knew me…when I was Sarah."

It's hardly above a whisper, but while his eyesight is lacking, Martin's hearing is perfect.

"Knew ya? Who dya think told me to send them back?"

* * *

A/N: Still, I WILL be explaining the apparent irregularity between Sarah's pregnancy and James Cogan's birth date, for those wondering.


End file.
